


You've Got This Spell On Me

by VeronikaLP



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-19 04:50:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2375228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeronikaLP/pseuds/VeronikaLP
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Niall is a cheery Hufflepuff on said house's Quidditch team and Zayn cheers for him even when he's a Ravenclaw.<br/>Featuring disgustingly-in-love Larry, and a pinch of Sophiam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You've Got This Spell On Me

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompt: "Zayn thinks he might be a little bit in love with Niall; the fact that he's never spoken to him might pose a bit of a problem. A Hogwarts!AU where Niall's a bubbly Hufflepuff and Zayn's the quiet Ravenclaw who daydreams about him during their shared Potions class. It'd be cool if Niall played for his house quidditch team and Zayn's always getting in trouble for napping in his classes because his favorite class is astronomy and he stays up late to map out the stars."  
> To be completely honest this is not what I had originally planned for the fic exchange but real life got in the way and I had to pop up a new story in a little over a week so I could deliver this and not fail this assignment.  
> I want to thank you for taking the time to submitting your prompt and AO3 for giving it to me. Despite everything I had fun writing this, and while it might not be exactly what you had envisioned, I hope you still enjoy it.  
> I also think it goes without saying this is unbeta'd (although I did proofread it a couple of times), so any mistakes are mine and mine alone.

To go through London terminal on a regular basis is madness. On a Sept 1st it’s a living hell.

It’s crowded, hot, and too loud for his liking, filled with a queue running unconsciously through the minds of the people lingering the whereabouts of platforms nine and ten.

There’s so many of them the attention of the security guard has been caught, making rounds through the area despite the fact that groups of two and three had been going missing every two minutes or so without fail.

His fingers itch on the handle of his handbag, full of art supplies. He doesn’t trust the trunk-carrying system to get it safely to his room without the paint spilling all over his clothes. Last years’ experience is proof of that. But maybe this year he’ll finally finish the piece he’s been working on since the night he first stepped into Hogwarts, got placed in a house, and met the pair of eyes with a shade of blue so unique he’s still struggling to find the right shade to immortalize them with on canvas after three years of search.

By the time he rounds the corner only one other kid hovers around the area, suddenly reminding him that Louis, of course, is running late.

He meets the kid’s eyes and gives him a short nod behind the guard’s back once he passes by, disappearing through the usual set of bricks a couple of seconds later, meeting the chaotic sight of Platform 3/4 .

The kid offers a smile and bolts off to meet the friend calling for him a few feet away, yelling something about his toad turning yellow during the summer and now flashing between that and green depending on the weather.

Wanting to get away from the pushing carts and teary goodbyes (the exact reason why he prefers to do that at home so his mom doesn’t embarrass him by making him cry in public solely for the reason that she’s crying in the first place), he hops onto the train and walks down the hall, not stopping until the last compartment’s door stands before his eyes.

“Oi, Zayn!” a voice calls up to him.

“Hey, Li,” he smiles, turning around. Of course Liam would be inside the train already and of course Zayn’s hand ends up trapped between their bodies because Liam for some reason loves to hug people instead of just shaking their hand. “How was your summer?”

“It was good. I- maybe seeing someone now.” A faint of blush covers his cheek. It suits him. “From your house, actually.”

He’s usually all proper and righteous, leading first years to their right classrooms and hoping to become a prefect one, so it’s a nice change to see him bashful and flustered. Zayn just raises an eyebrow and urges him to continue.

“It’s uh. Sophia.”

Ah, yes, Smith. She’s smart and funny and a total preppy girl who destroys stereotypes about how you can’t be pretty and feminine and clever all at the same time. Zayn likes it, thinks it fits.

“What about you?” Liam asks, hand rubbing nervously behind his neck a couple of times before slowly sliding down.

Blonde hair and blue eyes flash before Zayn’s eyes. “No new partner to report on my end, but it was fun.” He shrugs. “Safaa drove me nuts with her latest boyband obsession, and Ant and I chilled out a lot so…”

Liam smiles at that, hearing a soft voice call behind him that he turns to answer to. When his front is facing Zayn again, he’s smiling like a loon, Sophia’s frame lingering behind him.

Zayn’s terrified to figure out what being in love like that must feel like, having it reciprocated. There’s a tug in his chest willing him to take the risk and find out. He’ll do it this year. Maybe.

“Well, I gotta go, but I’ll see you around?”

Zayn nods and turns to slide the compartment’s door open just as Liam adds as he’s walking away, “Of course I’ll be seeing you around. We’re staying in the same castle for a whole year.”

He lets out a snicker as Sophia giggles in response and steps inside.

***

He’s lying with his eyes closed, wondering why the train is taking so long to take off when a heavy mass falls on top of his chest, successfully knocking the air out of his lungs.

“I hate you so much,” he wheezes.

“Missed you too, sweet cheeks,” Louis croons, smearing saliva all over chin with a wet kiss that gets followed by a thud on the floor.

“Hey, Haz.”

He cracks one eye open, still struggling to regain his breath, and meets a shaking mop of curls greeting him from the floor.

“Hiiiii,” Harry drawls. “Did you have a good summer?”

“Not as fun as yours,” Zayn replies, eyes fixed on the beige cast wrapped around Harry’s left arm. “What happened?”

The realization that the train is already in movement comes just as Louis’ answering for Harry saying, “Tripped on his dad’s pool. Slipped on the edge. The bone peeking out of his skin looked sick.”

“Mom didn’t think it was that funny, Lou,” Harry sulks, prompting such a fond look from Louis that has that string tugging on Zayn’s chest again.

Louis turns to address Zayn once more. “Had to walk him into the emergency room while his dad carried his mom, completely passed out. I think it was all the blood.”

Zayn wonders why they just didn’t fix him with a spell and get it done with, but then remembers Harry living in a muggle town and the disdain some of those have against wizards still existing.

“We’re taking him to Madam Pomfrey’s tomorrow,” Louis’ voice cuts through his thoughts, and there’s the rest of his answer.

***

The thing about the Hogwarts Express is that it’s always fun during the first hour, maybe two, and then boredom strikes.

They still have half the way to go and Zayn is about to smack his head against the window, Honeydukes cart already come and gone along with Harry and Louis (probably off to snog somewhere). Suddenly the door slides open and boredom changes to anxiety in two seconds flat.

“Sorry,” Niall shrugs apologetically, taking a seat like he’s not sorry at all or doesn’t care if Zayn gives him permission to enter the room or not. Not that Zayn wouldn’t but still. “All the compartments are full of people snogging, and as used as I am to Haz and Lou doing that kind of thing it’s kinda awkward when everyone’s doing it, you know?”

Zayn knows because God knows he’s had his fair share and because this is the longest Niall has ever addressed his presence when they’re not surrounded by a group of other people. Also, the pink of his mouth is highly distracting.

“Even Liam was going at it in one of the first rooms down the hall.”

That breaks him out of his stupor, chuckling along with Niall. “Liam Payne? As in Mr-Harry-And-Louis-Please-Behave-We’re-In-A-School-For-Christ’s-Sake, Perfect Prefect next year, and quite possibly future Headmaster of this school Liam Payne?”

“Yup,” Niall grins and pops a chocolate frog out of his pocket, leaving a smear on the corner of his lips that Zayn desperately wants to wipe off. With his tongue, preferably. And perhaps then smear some more on the tip of Niall’s dick so he can lick that off as well.

“It’s always the quiet ones, isn’t it?” he smiles to take attention away from the fact that the leather under his legs is squeaking as he moves around to hide the semi he’s now sporting thanks to the images running through his head.

Niall smiles as well and it’s blinding, brighter than the sun outside. Three years of being it directed at everyone else but not him first hand flash before his eyes, and damn, Zayn’s got it bad. “He’s not really quiet. Remember that carnivorous plant incident in first year?” Zayn nods. “He’s just so well-mannered you don’t really suspect it, yeah?”

His head bobs up and down once more and he voices his current thought out loud just so he can continue hearing that Irish brogue filling his ears.

“How do you know Harry and Louis anyway?”

It’s a stupid question, because you can only spend so much time inside a castle and sharing classes without at least knowing basically everyone but it prompts the reaction he was looking for. Niall starts talking about first year and then moves to adventures back home in this little magical town in Ireland, and Zayn just smiles through the whole thing, feeling Niall’s accent wash over him for the rest of the ride.

***

About ninety percent of the school’s population believes Quidditch is the greatest thing inside the magical world, and while Zayn is not much of a sports fan, he definitely agrees.

Niall being one of the chasers on the Hufflepuff team might also have something to do with it.

Currently it’s both their houses battling head to toe with Ravenclaw in the lead by only ten points. From where he stands, he sees Professor Chaney slip a bill to a student’s hand and he shakes his head. Even teachers are far too invested in this game.

He also knows he’s not supposed to cheer for the team that could potentially beat his house’s spot on the game against Slytherin in three weeks but Niall’s currently in possession of the quaffle, dodging two chasers and then that bludger hit by Danny before throwing the ball right in between the keeper’s stretched arms, successfully tying up the game to 180 points by side. The girl to his right gives him the stink eye as he jumps and screams along with the crowd standing of the opposite side of the arena but it’s really not his fault, it was a great play. Now it’s all up to the seekers, battling for the snitch once they spot it on the far left end of the field.

The chase continues for about ten more minutes, each trying to outdo the other and causing the snitch to slip away in exchange, until Eoghan spots it near the ground on the right side just as Olly does and they both dive into it, Eoghan snatching it away by a stretch of hand at the last second before his body slams against the wall.

There’s a collective gasp and no movement for a couple of seconds, until his arm reaches up to the sky and thin, golden wings can be seen fluttering between his fingers before going completely still.

The roar of the crowd claims the game as over.

Now the glares he’s getting from the girl and her group of friends is worse for cheering for the team that has basically eliminated them from the season but he’s far more busy paying attention to how Niall is smiling up at him despite being surrounded by a few sweaty bodies wrapped around his torso.

“Great game, Horan,” he smiles.

“Thanks. You guys did great too.”

Ever since their talk on the train Niall has been more present on Zayn’s radar, in a sense where somehow instead of Zayn staring at him mumbling into his plate in the mornings they now catch up breakfast together, grumbling about the lack of coffee for students under fifth year and classes happening at ungodly hours that could be spent doing something more productive, like sleeping.

They also share hushed jokes in between their shared Potions class, and laugh whenever Julian messes up his assignments and manages to make his cauldron explode or burst up in flames, much to their professor’s dismay.

Zayn’s been getting awful grades for being too distracted by Niall’s laughter and how blue his eyes look under the dimmed lights of their classroom, but it’s all worth it once they get their scores for the day and Niall winks at him for not fucking up his assignment too badly.

***

“Malik, this is the third time you’ve been in my office this month, and if Professor Lovegood didn’t have such a fond spot for you, I know you’d be here more often.”

Zayn smiles to the ground. Luna’s patient, sweet, and kind, and lets them call her by her first name even when they’re a bunch of rowdy kids thinking they don’t really need DADA since the greatest evil the magic world has ever face has been gone for the past decade. She’s everyone’s favorite teacher, and conversations about her classes with Niall are the best part of boring Saturday afternoons when they’re both forced to deal with that awful thing called homework.

He had a rough time adapting to school at first, being away from his family for so long and missing his friends like phantom limbs, and she had helped him ease into the sense of home he feels now, three years later. That’s mainly the reason why she’s his favorite, and he had told her so one afternoon after class.

“Oh, Zayn,” she had said, patting his hand with teary eyes. “If only I wasn’t married and a few years younger.”

He had blushed and ducked his head down to pick up his duffle bag and head downstairs for dinner. As he was about to cross the threshold, he heard her adding, “Don’t tell Professor Longbottom I said that.”

Now, the voice belonging to the name cuts through his thoughts with a hidden smile behind, as if he knows exactly what was just going through Zayn’s mind.

“I know Professor Binn’s way of giving classes is…” Neville pulls a face, searching for the right term; settles for, “…slow. Must have inherited it from his father. It was the same during my time. But it’s important for you to learn about History of Magic.”

Zayn nods, because he knows. It’s just so boring to sit in a desk listening to slow, soft voice talking about troll wars and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named as if discussing the weather on a lazy winter morning where everything is white and dull. It’s not his fault his eyelids begin to drop on their own. He also knows he’s not the only one to fall asleep in that class but his assigned seat is on the second row, and by the time he’s being reprimanded for not caring about History, the others are already shaking themselves away and dodging the bullet.

“Won’t happen again, sir.”

He gets a bob of the head as response that he takes as dismissal, and as he walks out he hears, conversational as ever, “You know, maybe if you didn’t stargaze so much, you wouldn’t be here as often.”

Zayn thinks of chilly, alone nights on the tower, and top grades in his favorite subject, and smiles.

***

The sky is clear that night when he makes his way to the tower, unobstructed path allowing him to admire the mystical white spots twinkling over dark.

He catches constellations he hasn’t learned the name of and marvels in their usual beauty, filling out charts and making notes as he wonders if his fascination for space will ever fade away.

A chill breeze passes by as he has moved from stars to lunar charts, ink flowing over quill in one of the lunar charts he keeps around for fun and practice. He wraps himself closer inside his sweater, and then there’s a loud crash followed by a curse.

Despite his initial reaction of surprise and concern for the well-being of the person who just tripped on the last step of the stairs, once he recognizes the mop of blonde hair what comes out of his mouth is, “We’re not supposed to curse on school ground, you know?”

Niall smiles beneath the pale moonlight, blue eyes shining with a twinkle worthy of one of the Disney movies Safaa loves to watch as she explores the muggle side of their family, and Zayn’s more than a little bit in love; he has known it since first year, it just seems to be dipped with steel certainty now that Niall is around in his life more often.

“Hi, I’m Niall. I’m the Irish one.”

Zayn laughs and slaps Niall’s stretched hand away, shaking his head.

“Stargazing again?” Niall asks with a jerk of his chin towards the telescope, dusting off his knees.

“How do you know that?” Zayn asks with a tilt of his head to hide his anxiousness at the fact that Niall knows he sneaks up to the tower at least five times a week to map out stars and think of lives beyond humans who do tricks and call it magic and actual spells and potions being real as well as mystical creatures he has had the chance to study and ride during classes with Hagrid.

His lips transform into a grin, feet moving closer until his body is practically caging Zayn between it and the edge of the tower where the telescope stands. “Word travels fast if you talk to the right people.”

For a second he looks like he’s about to close the distance between them and finally give Zayn that kiss he’s been thinking of for endless nights while lying on his four-post bed, and then he’s moving to the telescope, looking out to the same lunar movement Zayn was catching not that long ago.

“Did you know Europa is icy and Io has volcanoes?”

Zayn stares at his profile like he’s gone mad. “That’s not what Professor Sinistra said when we studied Jupiter.”

“Muggles do, though,” Niall shrugs, engaging into a monologue about Jupiter moons and other planets and the possibilities of alien life until Zayn feels his body being carried towards his room and an Irish accent lulling him to sleep.

***

It becomes routine then, sharing breakfast with Niall, dreading all the classes Ravenclaw doesn’t share with Hufflepuff, and mapping out stars when the sun goes down.

Most nights they don’t end up talking about anything space-related, just childhood anecdotes, family stories, and feelings they had upon receiving their letter.

The more Zayn gets to know about Niall, the more he finds himself falling deeper into this “I think I’m in love with you” hole, to the point where he replays their conversations over and over in his head and sighs inwardly at the memories of Niall’s arm touching his when they were huddled against the telescope, arguing over who’d be the first to spot Venus that Sunday morning after pulling an all-nighter.

One night he walks up the stairs and is surprised to see Niall already sitting there, or more like lying across the floor on top of a yellow blanket.

At the face he gives him, Niall scoffs, “I know. This yellow is hideous. Lou says it all the time.” His eyes shine with something and then he goes, “You’re lucky blue suits you.”

Zayn laughs and shakes his head, moving to get the telescope set all while feeling his ears burning up and swallowing down his thoughts about how good yellow looks on Niall. “How come you don’t bring your own telescope?”

“’Cause I’m lazy,” Niall shrugs. “And we always end up using yours anyway.”

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything else, just goes through his routine in silence while still feeling Niall’s comfortable presence sitting nearby.

At some point he turns around to let Niall know about the lunar movement of the night and meets Niall’s body standing right there, so close Zayn could count his freckles if he wanted to. _Has he always had this many?_

“You know, I was planning to wait for the right time to do this, ‘cause Louis said it had to be all romantic and shit, but there’s really no time like now, is it?”

Zayn has no idea what he’s talking about and his throat is too dry to function properly and spill out words so he numbly nods, and next thing he knows a pair of lips are pressing against his.

He discovers Niall kisses like he does everything else, with passion and fervor, stealing Zayn’s breath away with swipes of tongue and small nibbles on his lower lip that has his knees buckling under him.

“Had been wanting to do that for so long. Fuck.”

“Yeah?” he asks, feeling so dizzy if it weren’t for Niall’s arm around his waist he’d be dropping knocked out cold into the ground right this second. A couple of seconds later he adds, “Since when?” because Niall just kissed him and apparently that’s a source of bravery. Who knew?

“Since that day on the train,” Niall replies, easy as ever, and what little breath Zayn had managed to regain disappears when their lips connect again.

They kiss for so long Zayn loses track of time, doesn’t care about anything that’s not Niall’s tongue inside his mouth.

“Sorry,” Niall whispers once they part, in a tone of voice that reminds Zayn of that first day on the train, like he’s really not sorry. “It’s just- Your _lips_. I’ve always been fascinated by them but ever since we started chilling and I saw them up close every night…”

His mouth keeps moving in a continuous ramble, but Zayn’s mind if an echo of “fascinated by them” ringing over and over again, up until a particular word brings him back to the present.

“You’ve had dirty thoughts about what?”

It’s a miracle his voice came out hushed and not as loud as it sounded in his head.

“Yes,” Niall replies, not responding his question at all. “You need to come to Mullingar this summer. I’ll cook for you,” –he gives him a kiss-, “treat you right” –another one-, “and make you mine in my bed.”

Zayn groans and holds on tight to Niall’s hips, shivering at the press of teeth currently biting his neck and wondering how he’s gonna manage to keep his hands off Niall now that he has permission to roam them around.

He thinks of the hardship it’ll be to sport semis all through school whenever he looks at Niall or touches him during breakfast or classes and not be able to do much about it that isn’t touching himself in the shower wishing it was Niall’s hand on him instead. Which isn’t that much different from what he’s lived the past three years, only difference is that now he gets to kiss and touch Niall in a totally different manner and yearn for his touch all the more.

He thinks of how he’ll have to write his mother a letter telling her about Niall and make sure to include a picture because she’ll want to see him, thinks of how his summer will have to split between Ireland and England because his father will demand for Niall to come to Bradford so they meet, and dreads the moment Louis and Harry find out because they’ll make a scene in the middle of wherever it is they stand, yelling about years of pent-up UST.

He feels exhilarated to insanity, scared shitless, and looking forward to it at the same time, wondering if this is what his disgustingly in love friends feel like every day. Then he figures it’s much better to live it than to watch it on Louis’ eyes any time of day or in Liam’s whenever Gryffindor and Ravenclaw share a Charms class. Especially when Niall’s looking at him with those wide, blue eyes, unnaturally twinkling under the barely-there moonlight.

“Okay,” he whispers, revels in the blush of Niall’s cheeks and the smile he lets out, and kisses him slower this time, with languid touches of lips and lazy sweeps of tongue.

***

True to Zayn’s thoughts, Harry and Louis cause a scene in the middle of the main hall once they see them arriving holding hands the next morning, sleep deprived and with messy hair, shouting hallelujahs and popping confetti out the tip of their wands.

Zayn knows he’s blushing as well but it’s easier to focus on how rosy Niall’s cheeks look and how he giggles against Zayn’s mouth when he gives him a quick kiss just so his friends stop chanting and attract the teacher’s attention towards them.

When Liam shows up later and the news are broken by Louis’ boisterous laugh, he merely smiles, expressing, “It was about time!” joining in their table, Sophia following not long after with her own claim of congratulations.

By the end of that day, he writes the letter home to inform them of the news, and although he leaves out the part about visiting Niall’s home for the summer, preferring to save that for when he sees his parents face to face again, there’s a note near the end of the parchment, right above the attached picture of him and Niall cuddling on the couch, in foreign handwriting, that reads, “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Malik. ‘M Niall, and I might be a little bit in love with your son. Looking forward to meeting you this summer. Love, Niall.”

***

He’s sweaty, sticky, and so glad Niall’s parents aren’t home. Otherwise all the noise they just made would’ve made an awkward topic of conversation during dinner that night.

His body goes with ease when Niall pulls him for a cuddle, breath slowly evening out until every stretch of skin reminds him of the come currently drying on his stomach. He’s too tired to even consider moving to get a wet cloth and clean himself up so it’ll have to wait for now.

Niall hums a familiar tune and he thinks about the school year they’ve got coming up, the Triwizard Tournament happening while they’re at it, and how everyone in the Malik household fell in love with Niall the second he walked through the door two weeks after third year was done.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Niall asks, fingers carding through Zayn’s hair. He’s thinking about leaving it long this year because his boyfriend surely likes to pull it when they’re being playful.

“About how badly Safaa begged me to take you home for Christmas right before I came here.”

Niall hums. “Tough luck, ‘cause Christmas in Mullingar are awesome, and I don’t plan on giving that up.”

He sulks for approximately three seconds before Niall’s serious face splits into a grin as he says, “Make you a deal.”

That immediately perks him up. “I’m listening.”

“I spend Christmas in Bradford.”

“Aha.”

“And you better get me a nice present.”

“Of course.”

“Not only because I’m your boyfriend.”

“Obviously.”

“But also because I’m gonna get you the best present in the world.”

Zayn rolls his eyes, playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Sure you are.”

“And because I’ll be giving up the best time of year in Mullingar.”

“Niall.”

“I mean it, Z.”

“Ni.”

“We get drunk, and Eoghan always ends up puking, and the next day’s party at Bressie’s is sick-”

“ _Niall._ ”

“What?”

Zayn gives him a look.

“Okay, okay,” Niall concedes, chuckling and giving him a peck on the lips as he pushes Zayn on his back so he can cover Zayn’s entire body with his own. “I’ll go there for Christmas if you spend New Year’s with me and I get to make you moan in this same bed the second the New Year rings.”

Zayn chuckles at the ridiculousness of the idea because right after ringing the new year they’ll have to kiss and hug lots of people and the house will be full of relatives and friends, and there’s no way he’s having sex with Niall while his parents are there. It still doesn’t take away the investment his dick seems to have over the idea.

“Okay, Irish Princess,” he smiles with the nickname he heard Bressie call Niall the night he met the Irish Crew, just because the entire moment seems ridiculous in the best of ways.

“Okay, Zaynie Baby,” Niall giggles, using the one he heard Doniya call Zayn and made Louis and Harry gag and Liam roll his eyes when they stopped by in Bradford for a weekend.

Zayn giggles as well and pulls him down for a kiss before it’s time for them to move for a shower so Bobby and Maura don’t catch them naked and covered in come in Niall’s bed.


End file.
